CHAPTER XV
THE STRANGE WEAKNESS OF FRANCIS STAFFORD
When Francis recovered consciousness she found Edward Devereaux bendingover her with the utmost concern.
"You live," he cried joyfully as she opened her eyes. "Now Heaven bepraised! Methought that I had killed thee, Master Stafford."
"Methought that it was to be a tilt a l'outrance," said Francis trying torise. "Oh," she moaned sinking back as dizziness again assailed her. "Iknow not why but I am so weak. Bethink you that I am dying, MasterDevereaux?"
"I understand it not," returned the lad much perturbed. "The wound isnaught. See! I slashed the sleeve of thy doublet and examined it. The cutshould tingle and smart as all such do when green, but there is naught init that should cause thy death. Art thou still no better?"
"Nay;" said Francis feebly. "I am sure that my time is come. Good Edward,I beseech you, bring me a priest that he may shrive me."
"There is no priest in all the castle walls, Francis Stafford. Know younot that priests and all such popery are forbid? I will call achirurgeon."
"Nay; do not so," said the girl. "What this weakness that has o'ertakenme may be, I know not, unless it be death. E'er I depart I would assoilmy soul of all taint. Therefore incline thine ear, Master Devereaux, andreceive my confession. It cuts me to the quick to make acknowledgment,but I have hated thee because thy skill with the bow was greater thanmine." She paused for a moment. It was hard for Francis Stafford toconfess fault even though she believed herself to be dying. Soon shecontinued: "It was thine arrow, Edward Devereaux, that slew the deer. Iknew it at the time, but I liked not to own thy skill. Wilt thou pardonme?"
"Gladly, gladly," said Devereaux. "Only I know not how thou couldst haveseen the arrow. Thou wert not there."
"I was, Edward," returned Francis. "I am in truth Francis Stafford, but Iam the daughter instead of the son of my father."
"Thou!--A girl!" The youth drew back in astonishment. "And I struck theewith my sword? O chivalry! I am undone! I am undone!"
"Nay; take it not so to heart. The blame is not thine. How couldst thouknow that I was other than I seemed?"
"But I struck thee!" The boy seemed almost stunned. "Would Sidney havebeen guilty of such an act? Would the basest hind in the field havelifted a sword against a woman? Fair mistress," he cried in distressoffering his sword to her, "do one last favor for Edward Devereaux. Burythat sword in the breast of him who is unworthy to bear it."
"In the name of St. George, what means this?" cried Lord Shrope as he andLord Hunsdon ran out from among the trees.
"By my faith, my lord," cried the chamberlain bursting into a laugh. "Ifthere has not been a duel!"
"Art hurt, Francis?" and Lord Shrope bent over the girl with solicitude.
"My lord, methought just now that I was dying, but the weakness thatovercame me hath departed," and the girl staggered to her feet with hisassistance.
"But thou art wounded? Girl, girl, what doth it mean?" Lord Shrope caughthold of the sleeve that dangled from her bared arm.
"Edward," said the lord chamberlain sternly, "I am surprised at thee. Isthis thy honor? Thou wert to treat this girl with gentleness. I had thyword. Thou knowest also that no brawling is permitted near the person ofthe queen. It shall go hard with thee for this. Francis Stafford mightnot know the law, albeit ignorance excuses none, but thou didst. Besides,in the name of chivalry, what cause had you to draw your sword against amaiden?"
"My lord," said Devereaux who had received the rebuke with bowed head,"deal with me as you list. There is no penalty too severe to be visitedupon me. There is naught that can restore self-esteem to EdwardDevereaux. But, I beseech you, believe me when I say that I knew notuntil now that yon maiden was a boy only in attire. My lord, believethis, and you may do with me as you will."
"'Tis true," corroborated Francis. "He is no more at fault for theencounter than I, my lord. And he knew not that I was not a boy, until,thinking that my end was near, I told him. I know not why I felt soweak."
"Thou didst swoon, child," said Lord Shrope. "'Tis a matter that is offrequent occurrence among thy sex. Didst never experience it before?"
"Never," replied Francis with a light laugh. Save for the sting and smartof the wound she was fully herself. "And I like it not. I' faith, were Ito have them often, there would be few sins of Francis Stafford's thatwould be unknown."
"Didst confess to Edward?" laughed Lord Shrope. "You two should be greatfriends anent this."
"No;" said Francis. "I confessed that he killed the deer, and that itshorns were justly his. I will not retract that, but still do I count himmine enemy, even as his father and mine are at feud."
"So be it," said Edward Devereaux mournfully. "Thou canst not, maiden,hate me more than I loathe myself."
"Come, Francis," said Lord Shrope, "we must to my lady. We were filledwith alarm when thou didst not come at the usual hour, and my lord and Ihave sought for thee everywhere. It was lucky chance that brought us thisway. Child, child, I would that thy father had thee with him, or elsewere here. I would also that the queen were not so obdurate in her mindagainst thee. But she will not have thy name broached to her. Somethinglies underneath it all. Hadst thou been concerned in treasonousundertakings the matter would be plain. As it is--but why think of it?That wound of thine which to a man would be a mere scratch must with theebe looked to. Let us away."
The inconvenience caused by the hurt was short, but, before the girlresumed her place among the pages, Lord Shrope again ventured to speak ofher to the queen.
"My liege," he said one morning when the queen had been particularlygracious to him, "I would that you would let me speak of FrancisStafford. There is somewhat----"
"Now a murrain on thee, Shrope, for mentioning that name," criedElizabeth her humor changing instantly. "We, too, have somewhat to say ofFrancis Stafford, but the time is not yet ripe. When it is, then will Ihear what thou hast to say. Until then we would not be plagued with thematter. Hearest thou?"
"I do, my sovereign mistress," answered Lord Shrope humbly. "I hear andwill heed thy commands. Only take not from me thy divine favor."
"Hadst thou ever been connected with any enterprise against her," he saidto Francis as he reported the result of the interview, "I couldunderstand it. As it is, her mood toward thee gives me great concern."
"Trouble not thyself, my good friend," answered Francis, though sheherself was more disturbed than she cared to admit. Perhaps the journeyto Chartley had come to the queen's ears, and that enterprise wore adifferent complexion now to the girl than it had done ere her coming tothe court. "Trouble not about me. Thou canst do no more than thou hastdone."
And so she went back to her place among the pages. The greeting betweenher and Edward Devereaux was formal. As the time passed she became awarethat the lad's manner toward her was quite different from what it hadbeen before their encounter. Now he seemed to regard her with somethingakin to admiration, and assumed a protecting air toward her, assumingmany of her duties, that irked the girl exceedingly.
"Prithee, sirrah," she said one day pettishly when his guardianship wasmore than usually apparent, "who gave thee leave to watch over me? Itirks me to have thee play the protector. Beshrew me, but Francis Staffordcan care for herself."
"I crave pardon, Master Stafford," replied Devereaux who never by word ordeed dropped a hint that he knew aught of her sex. "I crave pardon if Ihave offended. I will vex thee no more."
From that time his care was more unobtrusive, but Francis was stillconscious of it, and it was gall and wormwood to her. She could notforget the acknowledgment of his skill had been wrung from her when shethought herself dying. Although she could not but admit that Devereauxwas innocent in the matter, she felt as though a fraud had beenperpetrated upon her, and, girl-like, held him responsible for it.
And so life at the court went on. A great family under the same walls,loving and hating. The courtiers divided into factions; their followersbeing kept from brawling only by the
presence of the queen. The servingmen followed the example of their betters and squabbled in the kitchen;the butlers drank on the sly in the cellars; the maids chattered in thehalls; the pages pilfered from the buttery; the matrons busied in thestill rooms compounding fragrant decoctions for perfumes, or bitter dosesfor medicine; the stewards weighing money in the treasury; gallantsdueling in the orchard or meeting their ladies on the stairs. But Francisliked it all.
The gallant courtiers with their song and fence, and quibble and prattleand pun; the gaily dressed ladies; the masques in the great hall of thecastle; the pomp and ceremony that attended the queen when she wentabroad: all appealed to her aesthetic nature.
She soon learned to distinguish the courtiers. The Gipsy Earl ofLeicester, with his swarthy handsome face; the tall and comely vicechamberlain, Sir Christopher Hatton; the venerable Burleigh; the trustyand wily Walsingham; the gay, witty and sarcastic Harrington, godson ofthe queen, and the fiery and impetuous Earl of Essex, stepson toLeicester.
Sometimes a low, broad-shouldered, heavily-built man would appear atcourt followed by brawny sailors who bore great chests of gold gatheredfrom the Spanish Main. Then the court would be filled with the deeds ofSir Francis Drake, and of the wondrous happenings in that new world whichlay over the sea.
Youth does not examine closely below the surface, and so to the girl allwas bright and beautiful. She herself would have entered into the lifemore fully, but that the cloud of the queen's displeasure hung over her.There is no place where a sense of the august disapprobation makes itselfso quickly felt as a court. And, as the days went by and Elizabeth stillrefused to permit her approach, Francis found herself more and moreisolated.
Even the courtiers who had formerly called upon her to perform servicesfor them now chose other of the pages, while the pages themselves nolonger stopped to chat or gossip with her.
Thus the days went by.
In Doublet and Hose: A Story for Girls Page 15
